Ask AI Equestrian Edition: Horse Letter To Santa
We’re back at it! Asking AI to create humorous equestrian-related content we call all laugh at. This time, we’ve decided to ask AI to write a letter to Santa from a horse’s point-of-view.
This week many of our readers are celebrating Christmas. It’s one of the most widely celebrated holidays around the Christian world, blending tradition, family, and festive cheer. From non-denominational/secular celebrations like hanging stockings, decorating trees, wearing cozy holiday sweaters, and sharing delicious treats, to more religious recognitions of the event, like going to church, Christmas is a mix of lights, laughter, gifts, and goodwill, with a lot of family and fun baked in.
So we decided to have some fun with it and see what AI had to say. Here is what ChatGPT thought a horse’s letter to Santa might entail.
All AI-generated text replies are from ChatGPT.
Canva/CC
Dear Santa,
First of all, let me just say… you really need to up your game with the cookies. I don’t mean to be rude, but last year’s sugar cubes were… pedestrian. Dry. Sad. I think you should consider consulting a professional horse treat chef. I’m happy to make recommendations—your elves could really learn a thing or two about texture. Anyway, that’s not why I’m writing.
I know I’ve been a very good horse this year. Mostly. I mean, yes, I may have, on occasion, politely reminded my human who’s boss by leaving an unexpected “present” in the middle of the arena—but that’s just a test. It’s important to check if humans are paying attention. I assure you, all my actions have been with the best of intentions.
This year, Santa, I have a list. A very specific, very essential list. I’m hoping you won’t overlook it because, frankly, some of it is a matter of survival, and some of it is just for my sheer amusement.
1. Unlimited Carrots and Peppermints.
Listen, I’m not asking for much here. Carrots and peppermint candies are critical nutrition, and I do not accept substitutes. Kale? No. Apples? Only sometimes, when I’m feeling particularly charitable. I want the crunchy, sweet, magical orange sticks and the minty candies that make me feel like I’m in a spa commercial. Bonus points if the peppermint is shaped like tiny Santa hats. Because… aesthetics.
2. A Self-Grooming Robot.
I know humans think they’re great at grooming, but let me tell you: they are slow. They are inefficient. They are sometimes reckless with the curry comb. I propose a robot that brushes, combs, and massages me on demand. Preferably with heated brushes. And maybe a built-in snack dispenser? Don’t worry, Santa, I’ll handle the programming—no need to stress your elves with tech stuff.
3. A Portable Hay Dispenser.
Yes, I said portable. Why should I be tied to a hay rack or a bucket? I want my hay to follow me around like a loyal squire. Walking to the barn? Hay follows. Galloping across the field? Hay follows. Daydreaming in the sun? Hay follows. This is not a luxury. This is efficiency. Think of the time saved. Also, consider my dignity: bending down to eat is so last century.
4. An Indoor Pool with a Waterfall.
I see the humans swimming in their weird, cold, chlorinated water boxes, and I think, “Why not me?” I want a pool that’s big enough for a dignified trot, maybe a few graceful canters, and with a waterfall because I deserve spa-level ambiance. Optional: floating apple treats. Extra points: underwater speakers playing “Eye of the Tiger” for motivational purposes.
5. Heated Blankets for Winter.
You know how humans get all excited about heated seats in their cars? Well, I want that—but for my stall, my paddock, and ideally my entire pasture. I want to wake up in the winter and feel like I’m in a luxury hotel suite instead of a frozen tundra. A heated blanket that covers all my legs and back? Don’t skimp on the tail. That’s a delicate area.
6. A Personal Fan for Summer.
And while we’re on the topic of climate control: summer is brutal. Sweating. Bugs. The blazing sun. Humans have AC units, and I get… flies. I want a fan that rotates and adjusts speed based on my mood. Bonus: scented breeze. Maybe lavender or fresh-cut grass. I deserve sensory indulgence.
7. A Mini Horse Library.
Yes, you read that right. A library. For me. I’ve always wanted to understand humans better. I think reading books will help me give better advice. Notebooks on human psychology, treat recipes, equestrian fashion… maybe even mystery novels. I promise I won’t chew them. Much.
8. Stylish Tack and Accessories.
Santa, I’m tired of the same old leather and nylon. I want bling. I want sparkle. Rhinestones. Glow-in-the-dark bridles (because nighttime elegance is key). Saddle pads with personalized embroidery: “Best Horse Ever” or maybe “I’m Practically Santa’s Favorite.” Let’s face it, if I’m going to prance around the arena, I need to look fabulous.
9. A Human Trainer Who Understands Subtlety.
This is a big one, Santa. Humans sometimes think a horse’s subtle hints are optional. They are not. I want a trainer who can interpret the nuanced art of flicked ears, half-hearted whinnies, and the occasional dramatic stomp. Someone who can read my mood without requiring a full PowerPoint presentation.
10. A Flying Sleigh.
Okay, hear me out. If you’re willing to consider a joint venture, I would like a sleigh—flying or otherwise. Think about it: I could practice for your big night. I’d be efficient, professional, and stylish. No reindeer nonsense, please. I can pull the sleigh myself, with flair. Imagine the possibilities: faster deliveries, more cookies, and possibly unlimited peppermint refills. Win-win.
11. A Snack Concierge.
This might be ambitious, but I want someone whose only job is to monitor my snack levels. If my carrot supply dips below the optimal level, they refill immediately. If peppermint runs low, they alert Santa. They could also taste-test new treats to make sure they meet my rigorous standards. This is not optional.
12. Extra Attention, Please.
I know humans give me attention, but sometimes it’s like they’re distracted. Phones. Social media. TikTok dances. I need focused attention: scratches in the perfect spots, admiration for my beautiful mane, maybe some poetry written in my honor. Yes, Santa, I enjoy poetry. And yes, I expect it to rhyme.
13. The Ability to Speak Fluent Human.
I’m tired of guessing. Pointing. Pawing. Snorting. I want to talk. Let me clarify: I want full conversational capability, not just “hello” or “good boy.” I want to discuss politics, cookies, and whether humans really need that many shoes. It’s imperative for my mental health. Also, it will make training sessions far more entertaining for everyone involved.
14. A Comfy Nap Station.
I don’t mean just straw or shavings. I mean a legit nap station. Pillows, blankets, perhaps even a small canopy for shade. A quiet space where I can think deep horse thoughts without interruption. Sometimes I want to meditate. Sometimes I want to dream about flying sleighs and endless peppermint. Don’t judge.
15. Peaceful Coexistence with Flies.
This one’s critical. I am aware of Santa’s magical powers. I am also aware that flies are persistent and annoying. I want either immunity to flies or a magical force field that makes them politely disappear when I flick my tail. I deserve serenity.
Finally, Santa, let’s get real for a moment. I’m a good horse. I deserve these things. I deserve to feel pampered, understood, and adored. I have worked hard this year. I have trotted, cantered, jumped, pranced, and occasionally rolled in the mud to assert my dominance. I have loved my humans, even when they were slow with the treats. I have entertained, inspired, and generally been magnificent.
So please, Santa, consider my requests. I understand some may seem extravagant, but think of it as an investment in morale. Happy horse = happy human = cookies for you. Simple math.
Oh, and one more thing: if you can slip in a little extra magic to make humans understand me better, that would be spectacular. Not just me, Santa. All horses. We’re tired of being mysterious. Some of us are dramatic, yes—but that’s just personality!
Thank you for your time, Santa. I trust in your judgement, your flying skills, and your cookie-eating wisdom. I’ll leave extra hay and a few peppermint candies in the stable for you on Christmas Eve. Don’t worry, I’ve already taste-tested them to ensure quality control.
Sincerely,
Flicka,
The Magnificent, Slightly Sassy, Peppermint-Loving Equine Extraordinaire
P.S. If Rudolph is reading this: we need to talk about aerodynamic training. I have ideas.
